


What did I ever do to you?

by Brennan4



Series: Don't Feed the Plants [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cyberbullying, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:22:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brennan4/pseuds/Brennan4
Summary: Theo is irritated about all of the frustrations in his life, and takes it out by cyberbullying a YouTube singer. Turns out she's the daughter of a local mob boss, and suddenly he has more problems than being annoyed.





	What did I ever do to you?

Theo was annoyed. He was annoyed that his neighbors were still arguing at 11:00 at night instead of just finally getting divorced. He was annoyed that his landlady was still pestering about the rent she knew he didn’t have. He was annoyed that this was the only apartment in town that hadn’t become a den for drug dealers, and he was annoyed that his freelance writing prospects had dried up so he couldn’t afford to move somewhere nicer. 

But most of all he was annoyed because FlareGirl16 had posted yet another original song performance to her YouTube page. She was everything that was wrong with millennials these days. Her songs were unoriginal, pretentious, and derivative. Her voice was irritating. Her face still had sprinkles of acne no matter how much she told her viewers she was seeing a dermatologist. Theo felt is was his duty to remind her of this, which he did frequently. If it weren’t for people like him, the Internet would continue to thoroughly eradicate everyone’s ability to recognize crap. It was his duty to send her comments and messages explaining his grievances. He was doing her a service. 

Despite her current video release, it did seem like his work was seeing results. In her vlogs she would talk about how hard it is to see past the “haters,” and he was pretty sure at least one of her songs were written about him. So he wrote a lengthy diatribe, some of his best work, in his opinion, and went back to checking job listings. 

The next morning, he found himself watching a morning news show. He didn’t know why he watched it, as he could feel the inane chatter from the hosts and nonsense stories killing his brain cells one by one. 

“In other news, today was a tragic loss for the Internet music community,” said the anchor, once again wearing entirely too much makeup. “Julia Winters, known by her handle FlareGirl16, committed suicide last night. Winters is the daughter of Raymond Winters, Owner of the Winters Used Car business empire.”

“It’s a sad day indeed, and Mr. Winters will be closing all of his locations today. Of course, the federal investigation into his business’s alleged ties to the mob have reduced his ability to operate his business over the last month anyway, but he told us that he really needs the day to think some things over

Theo didn’t give this much thought. All it meant to him was one less annoyance piling on all of the others that surrounded him every hour of every day. He hadn’t realized who FalreGirl16 really was, and the revelation didn’t endear her any more to him. Just another spoiled rich kid, no doubt wasting her father’s money on singing lessons that never worked. It was a little surprising, as Raymond Winters was believed by everyone in town to be the source of the recent drug trade boom. Maybe he’d kill himself too, and then this Godforsaken town might start improving. 

A day later, Theo heard insistent knocking on his door. His landlady was too passive-aggressive to come in person, and he didn’t have any friends. He opened the door to find a large, bald man in a cheap suit. A jagged scar traveled across his forehead until it disappeared under his jet-black sunglasses. ‘

“You’re Theo Edmonds, right?” said the man, his voice deeper than any Theo had ever heard.

“Do I know you?” said Theo. 

“I here to talk to you about your internet usage.” said the man, in a condescending monotone. 

“You offering a job?”

“No.”

Theo slammed the door. He heard a thud, and the door came flying off it’s hinges.

“I love these shoes,” said the man, pointing at his combat boots. “Great for kicking down doors.”

He pulled a gun out of his jacket. 

“You’ve said some mean things online. You hurt a poor girl’s feelings. That hurt her dad’s feeling. Her dad’s my boss, and he told me to hurt you.”

Theo grabbed the vase on a table by the doorway. His aunt had given it to him as a present years ago and he never got around to putting anything in it. He slammed it into the man’s scarred forehead, sending him tumbling like a sack of rocks. 

He looked like he was out cold, but he wasn’t going to stay around to check. It Raymond Winters wanted him dead, nowhere in town was safe. He grabbed a coat, his phone, and his walled and bolted out of his ruined doorway. He bought plane tickets on his phone as he ran down the stairs’ almost tripping because he couldn’t pay attention.

He didn’t stop his panicked breathing until he reached the pharmacy across the street. He hoped nobody realized how frightened he look, or at least assumed he was just a junkie who need a fix. It was a common sight these days. He bought hair dye, a hat, sunglasses, anything he could think of to hide his appearance. He tried to remember the sort of thing people bought in Jason Bourne movies when they were on the run, but he couldn’t think straight. 

The earliest flight he could afford was at 9:00 tomorrow morning. He got a cheap hotel room at the airport hotel under a false name. Struggled to climb the eight story staircase to his room, exhausted from his frenzied journey. His mind was so scattered that it didn’t occur to him to use the elevator until he reached the 7th floor. He waited in the room curled in a ball on his bed, staring out the window. 

After about 2 hours, he finally managed to catch his breath. He spent the next hour after that looking up what fugitives do when they’re being pursued. He found advice for people being chased by criminals, but it all told him to go to the police. He knew they were at Winters’ back and call, so that wasn’t an option. 

Eventually he decided to give up and clear his head. He watched about 45 minutes of daytime Tv before his door went crashing down for the second time today. The scarred man from earlier was there, accompanied by a gaunt man he recognized as Raymond Winters. 

“I see what you were saying about the shoes,” said Winters. He turned to look at Theo. “I’m glad you bolted earlier, because after some deep thought I decided I wanted to see you in person.”

The looked around the room for something to defend himself but found nothing. The tall man strolled over and picked him up by his collar.

“I’ve done some bad things in my time,” said Winters. “I’ve hurt a lot of people. But always for a reason. I don’t know why someone would spend so much time hurting a stranger.”

“I’m sorry-” Theo pleaded as the scarred man’s thick fingers constricted his airpipe. 

“I’d imagine you are.” said Winters. “People like you don’t realize how strong they can be. You’ve felt weak and powerless for so long I don’t think you realized how easily you can destroy someone.”

The scarred man carried Theo and pressed him across the window. 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life it’s that killing people is easier than anyone thinks.” said Winters. 

The scarred man pulled Theo back and hurled him through the window. Theo flipped over and saw the pool courtyard rushing up to greet him. The water was a calming shade of turquoise, gleaming in the afternoon light. He felt slightly relaxed as he wondered if he might survive if he landed in the water.

He never got an answer to that question as he hit the hard, unforgiving concrete.


End file.
